


Destruction of a Mother's Soul

by OkayDamson



Category: When Women Were Warriors Series - Catherine M. Wilson
Genre: Angst, F/F, Family Dynamics, Inheritance, Non-Graphic Violence, Sacrifice, furture fic, matrilineal society, verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22206835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkayDamson/pseuds/OkayDamson
Summary: Sisters Tamras and Tamar are the last of their blood and they both chose women as their partners. They need to decide how to continue their line of women warriors.
Relationships: Sparrow/Tamar, Tamar & Matha, Tamras/Maara





	Destruction of a Mother's Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a creative writing class back in 2012. I don't remember why, but this is half "verse" and half "prose". I'll admit the verse portion is a bit rhymey/cheesy, but if you can power through I think the prose is pretty good. 
> 
> Set after the end of Wilson’s third book. Tamras, Tamar, Maara, Sparrow, and Matha are characters original to W.W.W.W., while Tamara, Tityra, and Totha are my own (Note: There is a character called Totha in W.W.W.W. he would be a distant ancestor of my Totha. Also Tamara is a name that was used for Tamras for a part of the Trilogy). 
> 
> I didn't make any changes from what I submitted to my professor in 2012 other than to run it through Grammarly.
> 
> Tamras is the Lady of her house sort of equivalent to a Lord Paramount but without a King. She was chosen as the successor by the previous Lady who didn't have her own daughter. Tamar is the leader of the village where they were born sort of equivalent to a bannerman sworn to her sister's house. She inherited the position from her mother. Their land is matrilineal, but it's not the case for every place in this universe. It's not called marriage, but they both are in life relationships with a woman. This is not at all unusual. The word "Aunt" does not exist in the books, you may notice why I'd point this out.

AN INTRODUCTION

In the ancient days, when women were warriors, there lived two sisters—both destined for greatness. Their greatness would not be equally measured, and this would cause great grief.

  
Both of Tamnet’s daughters chose the fairer sex.  
Her mother long passed—  
Her sisters lost to the war—  
There was no kin.  
At the death of Tamras and Tamar, their blood would be but a memory.

Tamras: The leader of a powerful house.  
Tamar: The leader of a small village.  
Tamar was a warrior. She’d completed her apprenticeship and earned her shield.  
It hung above the hearth in her hall.  
Tamras of the Bow: A Hunter. A Warrior. A Commander.  
If her stomach would swell her shield would be laid to rest.

Around a fire sat  
The daughters of Tamnet  
And their chosen.  
That night it was decided  
Tamar would take a lover.  
Heirs could be chosen, but   
Tamar needed to bare at least one child to continue the blood—  
At least one daughter to continue the power.

Word was spread that Tamar would bare an heir to Tamras’s House.  
Mothers from the countryside and  
From houses just as powerful   
Sent their sons to stand   
Before Tamras and Sparrow—Tamar’s chosen.

They turned away those too young for love,  
Too scrawny to produce strength,  
Too simple to pass wisdom, and  
Those too eager for Sparrow to trust.

They chose Matha, Son of Bru. A young prince who would soon inherit his own house.   
The alliance between Lady Tamras and King Bru was strong, and  
This child would unify them forever.

Under the Mother’s moon  
Far away from her marriage bed  
But still on the land of her conception  
Tamar conceived.

Villages. Houses. Country Homes.  
Common Folks.  
Companions.  
Apprentices.  
Warriors.  
Leaders.  
Lords.  
Ladies.  
Everyone within two weeks of travel prayed to the Mother.

Time passed.  
Tamar grew.  
Quickly.  
Quicker than the village had ever seen.  
Sparrow sent for animal hides. Sparrow sent for bedrolls. Sparrow sent for fruits, grains, and cheese.  
Sparrow took a cart to be led by oxen and filled it with all she’d received.

The journey to Tamras’s house was slow and steady.  
The mother to be   
Laid comfortably  
Amongst the bounty   
Of the community.

Later in the grandest room her sister had to offer   
Tamar was tended to by the old healer.  
“I feel the pulse of many. From you will come plenty.”

Weeks slow from anticipation  
Weeks sooner than expectation  
Tamar bore a child who would come to heed temptation.  
From Tamar’s womb came  
Two daughters to continue the power and the blood  
If that itself was not a miracle of miracles  
The Mother blessed Matha with an Heir as well.

Tamar offered the firstborn girl to Tamras.  
“We need not be hasty. Such declarations are not easily unheard.  
They will both inherit a place, but the strength required for each is different.  
We will wait and let fate decide who shall lead where.”  
It was decided that the children—  
Totha, Son of Matha, and Tamara & Tityra, Daughters of Tamar—  
Would be reared in the village,  
Fostered in Tamras’s house, and  
Then sent to Matha’s land.  
This journey would take 18 years.  
By then fate will have decided.

On the night Sparrow and Tamar returned to their village  
Gnith—the oldest woman in Tamras’s House—whispered into the night  
She will be the cause of the destruction of a mother’s soul  
Tamras and Maara, her chosen, tried to inquire more  
But Gnith declined to tell what the fates had in store.

~*~

Standing on a lush hilltop on the north side of Tamras’s land, Tamar, Sparrow, Tamras, and Maara watched the return of Totha, Tamara, and Tityra from their father, King Matha’s House. They walked together like a small band of warriors. They all wore similar Armor—a symbol of their Status within the different lands.

Tityra led them—she was the fairest of her siblings with long fine hair like the night’s sky. Her movements were stiff with forced strength; her face was tight with seriousness. She was the oldest; she stood above Tamara and just below Totha. Her shield hung over her back and her sword rested at her side.

To her Right was Totha. He was an image of their father and all his fathers—dark skin & dark hair wild with curls. He walked leisurely, but alert to his surroundings. His face lost most of its boyish charm but hadn’t yet grown dark with age. He also had a shield on his back and a sword at his side. He carried a cloak rolled into a slim bundle slung across his shoulders.

Tamara, the youngest of the pack strayed a bit behind. Her dark skin connected her to Totha and their father’s lineage, but her thick, unruly flamed-curls set her apart from all her kin. She glided more than she walked. Carefree and innocent she often reached up to ruffle her brother’s hair or to poke at her sister’s side. She liked to stop and observe the land, which irked her sister to no end. A fox-skin bag hung across her body; a large cloak-bundle across her back; a quiverful of arrows at her hip; and a beautiful bow was strung and resting on her arm.

When the trio met their elders at the hilltop they took a few moments to embrace each other. They took the sweet cakes offered to them by their mother, then started the journey to the house.

Tamras was observing her sister’s daughters. Within the week she would have to choose an heir—one of these young warriors would inherit her place. She looked at Tityra—the child offered to her long ago—she carried herself as a leader would. She was strong; Tamras knew her people would take her seriously as their Lady. She turned her attention to Tamara. It seemed fated that the child she’d named was so much like her. She was slight in size, but not of heart. She even mastered the bow as Tamras did. 

Tamras took notice of the large pack Tamara carried and was concerned.

“Tamara, do you carry all you own on your back?” She asked.

Her question drew the attention of everyone in the group. The elders stood back and waited for a response. Tamara looked to her older sister for an explanation while Tityra looked at her hands.

“She’s holding Tityra’s things as well” Totha managed to mumble with his mouth full of extra sweet cakes.

“Are you hurt Tityra?”

“Of course not, Mother. Strong as I’ve ever been.” Tityra spoke, taking Tamar’s hands in hers.

“If you are so strong why did you make this journey unhindered?” This question came from Maara.

“We were set to travel for days. Tamara likes to carry her bow leaving only a pack for her to shoulder, so I put my things with hers. Better than adding the weight to my shield.”

“If you cannot handle the weight of your shield, then you do not deserve it. You are a warrior Tityra! You boast of your strength yet force your younger sister to shoulder your burdens while you strut unencumbered. It’s by the Mother’s grace I don’t rip that shield from your back. I am disappointed in you.” Tamras bore her eyes into Tityra’s before she marched away.

Tityra knew she’d messed up as she stood under the reproachful eyes of her mother, Sparrow, and Maara. Sparrow spoke next.

“Tamara, undo your pack. Tityra, add half the load to your cloak and shoulder your own bundle. I’d make you carry the lot if it wouldn’t disgrace your sister. We will go ahead, but you three approach the house together. Remember, Totha you are a Prince—Tityra, Tamara…the fates are still deciding.”

As she watched her mother and elders go away from her, Tityra felt her anger rising. Tamras was upset with her! The shame of what she’d done loomed over her head, but instead of repenting, she spat at her sister’s feet. She said nothing as she split the load and strapped her cloak-bundle over her back. She started towards the house giving her siblings no choice but to follow.

For as long as she could remember they’d been told that they would inherit great places. They knew that Totha’s place was sealed; where their father was from man ruled, and there he would be a King. In the lands of their mother and her sister, he could be no more than a highly ranked warrior. Just as she knew her father’s place would go to Totha she thought she would be named Tamras’s heir. When it came down to her and Tamara it was obvious who should command warriors and who should lead a village. Still, for some reason, she felt threatened by her sister.

Three days! She’d been in among the warriors in Tamras’s House for three days, and the Lady still looked at her with disdain. She sat by the hearth with her shield friends and watched Tamras walk outside. She followed moments later and saw Tamras and Tamara take up their bows and head towards the hillside.

When they didn’t return after a few hours Tityra grew more anxious. The Lady and Tamara had always been close, but Tityra feared for her position. She sent a servant to bring Tamras home.

“Tell her Maara is searching for her. Let her know nothing is wrong, do not make her worry for the people.”

She knew that Tamara would stay in the fields practicing with her bow if there was no danger. A while later she saw the Lady approaching the house. She stayed out of sight until she disappeared inside and then headed in the direction she came from. She came upon the hill she knew her sister used for practice and searched for Tamara. Tityra noticed her sitting on the hilltop, so she hiked up the rocky trail until she stood only a few yards away from her.

“You have to talk to mother.” She spoke evenly. She knew Tamara felt her presence even though she hadn’t moved.

“What about?” Tamara replied.

“You have to ask her to influence the Lady, her sister. Tell our mother you do not wish to be away from her any longer. Tell her you want to return to the village. Tell her you want to inherit her place.”

Tamara stood and turned, bow in hand, to look at her sister. Tityra seemed on edge. She clenched and unclenched her fists, and her jaw was tightly set.

“It is not my place to meddle in the affairs of our elders—certainly not regarding inheritance. Lady Tamras will choose, and I will abide by her wishes.”

Tityra took several steps towards her sister until they were an arm’s length apart. She tried to keep her wits. She tried to remember this was her sister. She tried to remember the family that waited for them. She tried, but ambition clouded her mind. What stood before her was the difference between leading a small village in the countryside and leading this land. 

“You frivolous child! You will not stand between me and what should be mine. I will not lose my place over a damned pack! You will not continue to drive a wedge between me and the Lady!”

“What are you saying Tityra? Do you accuse me of treachery?”

The wind whipped around them. Flamed-curls and midnight-strands flew angrily matching the heated words.

“You’ve always been her favorite! You’re small like she is! You think as she does! And you had to choose this damned weapon!”

Tityra snatched the bow from Tamara’s hand so roughly they both lost their footing a bit. Tityra’s vision turned red with rage as she closed in on the stranger before her.

“You will NOT take this away from me!”

“All of this foolishness is for nothing! Lady Tamras—our mother’s sister—has already decided!”

Tamara watched as her sister seemed to crumble…

“She’s already chosen her Heir Tityra! It’s what we came here to discuss. She’s chosen y—”

A cry so deep and piercing that would make the greatest of warriors heed escaped her sister’s mouth, and she saw her bow coming towards her. Tamara had no chance for defense. She was stuck so hard on the side of her head that she flew back. When she fell backward the vicious winds forced her small body away. She watched the world spin…

“Tamara!”

Her mother’s heart-wrenching scream forced the red rage from her vision and the ambition from her mind. Tityra crept to the edge of the hill and saw her mother holding the seemingly lifeless body of her sister. 

Tityra dropped to her knees; sobs wracked her body and she unsheathed her sword.

“Forgive me, Mother!” She screamed.

Tamar looked up from the groaning daughter she held in her arms at the weeping one who pointed her sword to the sky.

“Tityra!” She brought the sword down swiftly. “No!”

For the second time in moments, Tamar watched a daughter come down the hillside, only when this one fell there were no shallow breaths. No hope for a new start. She took no pleasure in having the blood of the one who tried to kill Tamara. 

“Mother” Whisper. Cough. Groan. Tremors spread through her body, but Tamar tended to the daughter in her arms. The daughter who still had life.

She will be the cause of the destruction of a mother’s soul

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read WWWW had you ever considered what would happen next?


End file.
